


i lift my face (and i run to the sunlight)

by wholewheatbreddy



Category: Twosetviolin, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Asphyxiation, Choking, I have no idea, Love Confessions, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Safe Sane and Consensual, Smut, apologies my friends, god i just wanted to write smut how did feelings get in here, how the fuck do you tag porn help me, i can't ao3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:27:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21541324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholewheatbreddy/pseuds/wholewheatbreddy
Summary: "ow, fuck," eddy groans, then trails off into a high keen as brett bites at his chest. "shit!""you're wordy today," brett murmurs. he laps soothingly, almost kittenlike, at eddy's nipple, before pulling away to look his friend in the eye. "what's up?"
Relationships: Eddy Chen & Brett Yang, Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Comments: 25
Kudos: 167





	i lift my face (and i run to the sunlight)

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys...started this a long time ago and never finished it. till today i randomly had a burst of inspiration and wrote over 500 words worth of smut and i ended up making it emotional. here you go my friends. goodbye

"ow, fuck," eddy groans, then trails off into a high keen as brett bites at his chest. "shit!"

"you're wordy today," brett murmurs. he laps soothingly, almost kittenlike, at eddy's nipple, before pulling away to look his friend in the eye. "what's up?"

"it's—" he scrambles for words, then swears under his breath when he finds none. "—nothing. just worked up."

"what's got you worked up?" brett asks, sliding his hands down eddy's sides. eddy shivers. _fuck_. "life? child prodigies? america's got talent?"

eddy sighs. "please don't ever bring up america's got talent when we're in the middle of-" he breaks off into a moan when brett nips at his hip - "stuff. stuff that has nothing to do with that."

brett hums against the jut of his pelvis, and taps his fingers against eddy's thigh. "hm."

eddy rolls his eyes. "c'mon."

he can feel brett smirk against his skin. then he feels brett's fingers again. not the firm, almost bruising grip when eddy knows brett's at his limit. he's just caressing him, very gently, like eddy's made of porcelain. his hands trail up- eddy sucks in a breath, _he's so goddamn close come ON_ — and brett, the sly bastard he is, dips his head down between eddy's legs and just _breathes_.

eddy lies back, almost breathless. brett spends almost a minute just nuzzling into him- _smelling_ him. eddy finally gets his wits together and dares to look down. all he gets as warning is the tell-tale little spark in brett's eyes before he licks his lips and swallows eddy's dick whole.

"shit!" eddy snarls, slams his hand onto the bed. brett gives him a glance, heavy-lidded and knowing, and pulls off with a wet pop. "you gotta stay quiet, eddy," he says, almost completely unabashed by how disheveled he looks. "you can do that, right?"

"fuck, i— " eddy begins, then moans helplessly when brett dips down again. his hands scrabble for a hold in brett's hair. "you're not making it easy, you know."

“shh,” brett murmurs, then leans up to mouth at eddy’s stomach. eddy tightens his grip in brett’s hair, and hears him whine a little, a tinny, clear note. eddy swears again, and pushes him down. brett’s hands grip at eddy’s hips, blunt nails scraping against his skin. 

“mmf,” brett attempts, throat stuffed full. his eyes water a little, doe eyes downcast and slightly wet, and eddy feels a little rush travel through him at the expression.

“c’mon, brett—” brett _groans,_ and eddy can’t goddamn take it, but he spits the words out anyways. he strokes his hair, then tightens his hand into a fist and _pulls_ , none too gently. brett moans at the sensation, and eddy nearly comes right then and there because _he’s too goddamn hot for his own good._ “you can take it, can’t you?” 

when brett finally pulls off for air, his lips are swollen and his eyes are bleary. there’s a thin line of spit trickling out the corner of his mouth, but neither of them pay it any mind. 

eddy's _so fucking hard_. had it been anyone else, he'd complain, but he knows what's coming next.

“fucking hell, eddy,” brett mutters, grabbing for the lube on the dresser. eddy inconspicuously admires the vague planes and contours of the muscles beneath his skin. he digs into the drawer for a condom, and tosses it at eddy. “you trying to make me go bald before i’m thirty? i’m an old man, eddy. you gotta treat your elders with respect.”

“ _please_ stop saying stuff like that in the middle of sex,” eddy groans. he pushes his hand up his face, but watches in rapture as brett struggles with the cap and swears when too much pours out.

"fucking hell," brett says again, but he slicks up the fingers on his right hand and grips eddy's shoulder with his left. eddy can see his thighs tremble a little as he prepares himself. brett's fingers slide haphazardly down his chest when he shudders a little; his face creases into an expression eddy knows means he's hit his prostate.

" _fuck_ ," brett whispers, and leans in to kiss eddy. eddy licks his way into brett's mouth gently- he probes at his gums with his tongue, and takes care not to let their teeth clack. then he deepens the kiss - hears brett make a noise, low in his throat — makes it filthy. he only sits back to gasp for air, and brett's steeled himself enough that he's capable of coherent speech.

"c'mon," brett says in lieu of explanation. his face is flushed, and his lashes are a little wet. "i'm ready. hurry up."

"you're gonna kill my boner, dude," eddy sighs, meaning the complete opposite - brett is the most goddamn beautiful person on the planet, _what the hell_ \- but he fumbles with the condom and manages to roll it on.

brett shudders and sinks down slowly, his face scrunching up when eddy eventually bottoms out. eddy makes a pitiful noise - a strange keening moan, and tries to hide it by dipping his his head down and mouthing at the hollow of brett's collarbones. he's so _fucking_ sensitive, and this is no exception to the rule.

"shh," brett says again and picks up the pace; he speeds up now, merciless. eddy whines against brett's throat, feels his adam's apple bob against his lips. it's too good- eddy can't fucking take it. his mind kicks into overdrive, and the world - _his_ world - _brett_ \- comes into sharp focus. the colours bleed together - the sunshine dappling brett's skin begins to haze.

"brett, i," he gasps, breaths coming too fast. "i need it. i-"

"alright," brett says, voice suddenly hard. "hands on my wrist. let go if you need to." his hands come up to splay over eddy's throat. eddy's mouth falls open. his face burns.

there's the tiniest ounce of pressure, at first - the web of skin between brett's index finger and thumb gently pushing against his windpipe. eddy knows he's making strangled sounds, knows he's pushing up into it - but he can't find it in himself to care. then there’s _more_ , as brett puts more of his body weight into the action.

"i told you to be quiet, eddy," brett berates him, like he doesn't hold eddy's life in his hands, like he isn't taking eddy's dick like a fucking _champion_. eddy grips at brett’s wrist like it’s a lifeline - and that’s the truth, isn’t it? brett is the only thing tying him to the world right now, this ethereal construction of a man slowly choking the life out of him.

the pressure suddenly lets up, brett's face almost reproachful as his fingers loosen their hold. eddy gasps, air rushing into his lungs. his fingers tremble, knuckles white. "no," he begs. "brett, please, c’mon—”

brett curses, face flushed. he rolls his hips down — eddy’s head lolls back, like a puppet with its strings cut — and silences eddy’s pleas with a kiss that’s almost _too_ sweet. it’s a gentle thing, just his lips moving against eddy’s as he grinds his hips down relentlessly. he pulls away far too soon, and eddy whines, a high, meek sound. 

brett's hands skitter down and brush at the planes of his chest, thumbs teasing at his nipples. his breathing gets rougher and faster. eddy hears the characteristic pants of exertion, can feel the light sheen of sweat against his skin. 

all eddy wants is for brett to tell him he’s doing alright. he wants brett’s fingers wrapped around his neck and the overwhelming presence of _sensation_ to fade. he wants brett to smile at him, one last time, before the world goes white.

at the end of the day, he just wants brett. he _needs_ him, like the very air he breathes.

“please,” eddy says, barely above a whisper. he closes his eyes, and tips his head back.

brett sucks in a breath. it’s a quiet thing that barely stands out against the sound of skin against skin and the soft rustle of the duvets, but eddy knows brett’s mind is set.

“alright,” brett murmurs raggedly, gentler now. eddy dares to peek at what he’s doing. brett’s face is pink with exertion, his hand working furiously over his cock. his other hand reaches further, further, further; eddy closes his eyes again, pushes up in time with brett’s hips. brett’s hand slips to his neck, and eddy almost sobs in relief. but there’s no pressure— there’s _nothing_ , and eddy opens his mouth to protest.

but then brett’s hand slides up, cups his face — tenderly, like eddy’s fine china. his thumb smooths over eddy’s parted lips.

“eddy,” brett says, voice shaking, terrifyingly emotive. “i—”

he doesn’t finish his sentence as his body shudders, ropes of come painting eddy’s stomach. the sight is finally enough to push eddy over the edge, his whole body spasming as he finishes into the condom.

brett pushes himself off on trembling thighs, and uses the last dredges of his coordination to pull the condom off and tie it into something vaguely resembling a knot. he tosses it in the general direction of the trash can by the drawer, and sighs when he misses.

“you’re cleaning that up,” eddy mumbles, arm thrown over his eyes. 

“fuck off,” brett attempts, voice betraying his sleepiness. he flops onto eddy’s chest, not minding the drying come, and laughs at the exasperated grunt. “it’s cuddle time. i’ll pick it up later.”

“that’s disgusting!” eddy wheezes, but he wraps his arms around brett and hugs him tightly. he wrinkles his nose. “go wash your hair, brett. you smell.”

“you sure it’s not _you?_ ” brett grumbles, but lifts his head to look eddy in the eye. eddy’s features soften; tear tracks not quite dry.

“brett,” eddy begins, hesitant. “what were you going to say, then?”

brett is silent, his eyes searching. searching for something that maybe eddy can’t quite offer.

“i was going to say, eddy,” brett says, finally. “that i’d do anything for you. that i’d travel the world at your side, and that i’ll be the one you can come home to.”

eddy swallows, eyes prickling again. “brett,” he croaks. “brett. i love you. i—”

“shh,” brett says, one more time. “don’t worry, eddy.”

eddy sees brett through a haze of tears, a figure stained in the afternoon sunlight. but he blinks — once, twice — and the fog is gone, and brett is _there_. he’s heart-stoppingly beautiful and almost _unreal_ , but he’s _there_. and eddy can live with this, knowing that no matter what, brett will have his back.

“yeah,” he says, and he really _feels_ it, now. “yeah.”


End file.
